Memories of Tomorrow
by PotatoCactus
Summary: Gilbert Beilshmidt decides to continue his grandfather's work: Taking care of the Dublin (New Hampshire, not Ireland) Beilshmidt High School. However, with the staff and the students being more than unusual, the job's easier said than done. The series will focus on different groups of characters and will be split in independant fics.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello, this is Potato Cactus!**

**Right, so I'm starting a new story which is actually going to be a bunch of short stories revolving around the whole cast of Hetalia. In this serie (I will upload all the stories independently), the countries are human and all staff members of a school for "outcasts".**  
**The first story is a three chapter one focusing around Mathew and Alfred and called "How To Be A Hero", the first chapter has already been uploaded.**  
**I am currently writing the second one about May (Taiwan) and Yao.**  
**Most of the stories will have as main genres family, friendship, humour and/or hurt/comfort so don't expect too much romance (unless the majority of my readership, which will probably amount to two people (one of which I will force to read this), asks for a particular pairing)**

**Also, I am planning on making the background characters (mostly students) OCs from YOUR stories! If you can send me a profile of your OCs, I will be most grateful towards you :)**

**Hetalia belongs to me. The world belongs to me. The Universe belongs to me. For I am a potato.**  
**No but really, if Hetalia did belong to me I wouldn't be writing _fan_fictions for it.**

**~Enjoy the prologue of the series~**

* * *

"It's already been four years, huh…" the oldest man of the group said, looking at the peaceful blue sky from his wheelchair. He looked so old and spent despite his muscular frame and overwhelming energy; already, his brown curly hair were turning grey and his sight dimmed by the day. His smile however, pulling his face in wrinkles, only translated sincere happiness.

"You sound like a fucking old man, gramps." Muttered Lovino, the grandson who had been pulling his chair moments before. Unlike what most would expect, his eyes held no pity for the aged man but envy. The elder had, after all, lived a full and happy life, the dream everyone has and can't achieve.

"I am an old man!" Julius laughed, gazing at his grandson's permanent scowl.

"Veeee~" his younger grandson, Feliciano, exclaimed from his seat "You're still very young!" The dull stone wall on which the small Italian sat sprang to life as he joyfully kicked the air, its every stone blinking between his leg's shadow and the bright sunlight his smile seemed to emit.

"He's right, mon ami." A fourth man purred, stroking his own shoulder length blond hair behind his ear like they were delicate sculptures of ice. "I'm sure your health is as… dynamic as it was in the past. Your many lady friends would be quite sad otherwise, non?" Dirty innuendos aside, the fenchman's words were often pearls of wisdom, though not always delivered in an appropriate way. Julius of course, was well aware of that and a chuckle escaped his lips.

"You two would make a great host club." He smirked "I can already see it in my mind: 'Two Fs and no Fail: Come relax at Feliciano's and Francis's!'… Or something like that. Surely with your great words and eloquence you'll think of something better."

A tan hand placed itself on the formerly wide shoulder, its owner, Antonio, taking the opportunity to speak: "I think the conversation should be put to a stop… Little Ludwig isn't exactly comfortable with that sort of topic." The Spaniard hid a snicker behind his words and pointed to the German who leaned against the stone wall, as red as tomatoes from Spain. His cheerfulness, unfortunately, didn't have the least influence on said German.

"Kesesese! Ludz is still shy about that kind of things!" laughed a second German, Gilbert, poking his brother with his endless teasing. The albino who usually seemed so out of place in crowds melted in the scenario. The red of his eyes imitating the many red flowers and his white hair sharing the same colours as the omnipresent statues and marble stones. It almost looked like he was made to stand there.

Amidst a graveyard.

The occasion did not call for the laughter and the good mood the group displayed. It rarely did. Yet they couldn't help but act as themselves in the most serious and tragic times. To them, life was meant to be enjoyed.

No matter how disrespectful the other mourning families saw their actions to be, their mere presence lit up the rows of engraved marble stones. The sun itself only seemed to have been brought in by their joyful mood, chasing the shadows away and feeding the beautiful vines that crawled everywhere. Ironically, as the graves bathed in light, witnesses could have sworn the dead enjoyed the incredible amount of life the group showed more than the living, who criticized them from afar.

Fortunately, criticism had little effect on the grown up kids. They were used to it by then, especially after years of being outcasts.

Ludwig cleared his throat "So, where are Roderich and Eliza?". The blond shifted uncomfortably and tried to make eye contact to look convincing… which had just about the same level of success as the North Korean rocket launch. They all sent him a look of pity, one that clearly meant 'It's cute when you try'.

Gilbert being Gilbert, it was impossible for him not to embarrass his brother further "Trying to change conversation now, are we? That's not awesome. Anyway, I know you know more about sex than any of us, how about you stop denying your passion?" he teased, bursting in laughter when an expression of pure disgust, horror and kill-me-now embarrassment overtook the younger German's face.

"Wh-What are you talking about?" Ludwig managed "I wasn't changing the conversation! There are just more important things to discuss!"

"Sex is important." Antonio declared. "It's a moment of great passion, the climax of a relationship~" He locked eyes with Ludwig, throwing a serious glare against the flustered man. Though most of the time inhumanly cheerful, the Spaniard was well known to be absolutely terrifying when defending something he loved, whether it be a person, an object (*cough* tomatoes *cough*) or an idea.

Francis stepped closer to the wall on which the German was being pinned by the Spaniard and his brother and decided to join the fun "Antoine is right, you must not take sex lightly. It is the greatest gift offered to us by God. Think about it, about the sensations that run through your veins like fire when you finally become one with your cherished partner, the feeling of finally having what you've always desired, of marking your loved one to be yours… Think of all the fantasies you have, becoming true, your every kink, your-"

"STOP IT!" Ludwig finally snapped, his blush so intense it looked like roses had bloomed on his face. The three friends, commonly known as the Bad Touch Trio, backed down from the blond man. They knew he could easily win against them in a fight and didn't want to tempt him further.

Ludwig on the other hand, was desperately trying to remove the pictures Francis had animated in his mind, though bashing his head against the stone wall was little help. After a moment of everybody watching him mentally suffer, he straightened up, rearranged his tie and leaned back against the wall, breathing out of relief. However, it is well known that even when things are over, there's always more.

"I think it was very mean of you three to gang up on Ludwig like that." Feliciano pouted, hoping off his seat and standing next to said man "You know he doesn't like to be reminded of his obsession with porn."

…

Lovino swore a faraway fly could be heard sneezing.  
Everyone looked at Feliciano, eyes as wide as saucers, while the Italian hid an evil smirk behind his ever-so-innocent angelic smile. He received discreet thumbs up from his grandfather.  
Ludwig blushed harder (yes, it was possible), desperately looking for a rock to hide under for a year or two. He prepared his poor abused ears for the explosions of laughter that didn't wait to burst.

* * *

The others gone, Gilbert was left alone in front of the grave.

He kneeled down as to lower his head to the level of the portrait where the deceased was seen with a rare smile… A smile that would never be seen again. If he had endless time, he could have spent it entirely staring at the tomb, lost in his seas of memories. The absence of sounds coming from his mouth surprised even him. Not that he was complaining. Silence had always been golden for the man that now laid six feet under; it was respecting him to utter not a single word.

"_The memories of tomorrow are only what we make them to be."_

The silver paint was already being chipped off by the many heavy rains and violent winds of the past four years, leaving behind the carved contours of the cursive letters. The whole tombstone was scratched and damaged all over, void of the past shine it had. Instead, vines were making their way over the marble surface, merging the grave with nature.

It really made the albino wonder why he still bothered to bring flowers. The man had enough vegetation clinging to his resting place already! He smiled to himself, remembering how much the man hated being spoiled by his friends and family. He could see him refusing an additional flower, saying it was a waste of money and time to give him things. But now, he was dead.  
Gilbert slid a few cornflowers between the vines, which acted as vases for the visitors' gifts.

He slumped to the ground, crossing his legs and leaning back to stare at the sky.

"Hey!" he started "I don't know if you remember me after four years… What am I saying? Of course you remember the awesome me! Kesesesese! Who doesn't?... Anyway, I wanted to say that, here, in the world of the living, everything's doing fine. Not that we don't regret loosing you. It was devastating. Like really, I almost drowned when the Vargas house got flooded in tears. You should have seen Feliciano; I didn't even know it was possible for a man to cry that much!

I'm rambling on again… Makes me wonder who is the real grandpa, me or Julius? So, back on topic. I suppose you want to know what happened to your masterpiece. Well, it's still standing tall and proud like it used to. It was hell but we managed to hold on to it… As a matter of fact, the awesome me has taken in the responsibility of watching it live and grow and I've been doing so for the past few years.  
Yeah, you heard me right. It's hard work, but with the help of all the others, I actually make a pretty nice job of taking care of your school. Kesesesese! You're talking to a headmaster now!..."

Gilbert sighed as he broke eye contact with the peaceful clouds and looked back at the grave. He rubbed his thumb over the engraved name before blowing all the scrubbed dust off.

"It's my job to protect the memories of tomorrow now. So please, do us one last favour:

Rest in peace grandpa."


	2. How to be a Hero I

**Hello to all!**

**This is the first story of Memories of Tomorrow, a series I am starting. Really though, they can all be read as stand-alones.**

**As I mentioned in the prologue of this story, I am collecting OCs for the background characters of this story (mostly students) so if you have any, don't hold back and send me their profiles! The more interesting ones will hold bigger parts of course, but I don't think They'll appear in more than one story. So if you have a character you want them to interact with, tell me as well!**

**Who like a bit of brother hurt/comfort? I do!**  
**Who likes America? I do!**  
**Who likes Canada? I do!**  
**Who owns Hetalia? I don't! *sobs in the corner***

* * *

Alfred F. Jones slowly rose from his mattress, cursing his pillow for not being sound proof. His poor unawake ears were too sensitive to deal with the racket the door bell produced, especially when it was so early in the morning. Too early. "I'm coming!" he groaned, quickly pulling on random grey shirt and jeans. Showing up at his doorstep almost completely naked wasn't exactly the peak of etiquette.

His first thought was to check his apartment for any compromising picture or object he would have to hide, only to remember it was empty save for a few cardboard boxes. Nothing was left unpacked but his mattress, his captain America shield pillow and his batman blanket. He seriously hoped his visitor wouldn't mind the emptiness. Then again, his visitor was probably very well aware of it.

There were very little people who visited Alfred, almost none. Sometimes, he got a visit from the owner to demand the rent or his neighbour would come to complain about the loud music… When he did have a proper visit, it was usually or work related, or the pizza delivery guy. This time around, since he couldn't remember ordering the heavenly Italian dish, he could only assume it had something to do with his new job and the whole moving out thing.

After tripping multiple times on boxes, the blond finally reached his door and opened it, revealing a brown haired woman with green eyes. Despite being eye candy, the woman wasn't the type Alfred enjoyed talking to at first glance. She wore a necktie, a waistcoat and a tight knee length skirt, all black apart from a white blouse. In her arms, she carried a bunch of folders and official looking papers… Everything seemed to indicate she was all too serious and stiff to live properly.

"You're Alfred F. Jones, right?" she asked.

"Yeah, you want to come in?" he suggested out of courtesy "I'm sorry I can't really prepare stuff to drink… or chairs. They're all packed. Actually, I'm also sorry for my appearance right now but I just woke up."

"It's okay." The woman shrugged "No one likes dressing well on Sundays. _I_ don't like dressing up on any day, as a matter of fact. Those clothes are too stiff; it's a wonder how anyone can breathe in them."

"My thought exactly!" Alfred exclaimed, happy to see she wasn't a boring dull person after all.

"Oh well, I have to work later so I can't indulge in sweaters and pants." The woman sighed "Anyway, I'm Elizaveta Hedervary, I'll be in charge of all your legal problems while you work for the Dublin Beilshmidt High School. Don't worry, four years of getting the school out of all the shit in which the headmaster dumped it made me a pretty good lawyer." She laughed a little before regaining a serious expression "No, seriously, I swear that the next time I have to explain why the SPCA is suing us for cruel treatments towards a Walrus on campus to a judge, I'm killing Gilbert."

Lawyer? Wasn't the headmaster the one who was supposed to pick him up? Oh well, things didn't always go according to plan. On the other hand, his new workplace seemed to be a big mess… Alfred couldn't help but think he would enjoy that.

"So," Elizaveta continued "Need help to move your stuff?" She gestured towards the truck that waited for them on the road "Luckily, you live on the ground floor."

"Oh come on! I'm not gonna let a woman strain herself for me." he replied, flashing his gentleman grin.

However, the lawyer's reaction was quite different from what he expected. A small fire lit in her eyes and a smirk stretched itself on her face. "I'm not that weak!" she said as she rolled up her sleeves "Actually, maybe _you_ should just relax and let nee-san do all the work. Wouldn't want to strain yourself."

Alfred pretended to be hurt "Dude! I'm a guy! There's no way you're stronger than me." he retorted. Alfred did have a lot of pride in his strength and he was quite right to. The blond man had always been more of the athlete than the intellectual and his hours spent running around trying to be a hero had made his body strong and healthy.

"Challenge accepted." Elizaveta declared, holding out her hand. "Unless, of course, you're a coward."

Immediately, Alfred reached out for her hand and shook it "Pffffff! Me? A coward? Try a hero." He grinned. He always loved the challenge.

The woman tied her wavy hair back in a ponytail and entered the apartment "Let's get to work then."

* * *

The new apartment was much wider than the previous, due to it being designed to house four people instead of one. One central room, which held the living room and the dining room was bordered by several doors; one lead to the bathroom, one to the main corridor, one to the kitchen and four to bedrooms.

"Here's your iced tea." Reluctantly said Alfred while holding out the bottle to the woman. He slumped next to her on the sofa, tired from a day of physical effort.

Elizaveta smiled at his childish pout "Don't be like that." She laughed "A loss is a loss; it's your fault for underestimating me! And anyway, the result is obvious. Not only did I load more boxes than you did, I also unloaded more." She playfully punched his arm, before breaking a small silence "Well, welcome home."

Alfred didn't know what to say to those words. How long had it been since the last time anyone had spoken them to him? Probably about six years.  
But it felt good to hear them. They were like a hint of warmth in the cold harsh world that was their own and he could definitely get used to hearing them. Suddenly it hit him.

"_Welcome Home_"

Like, literally.

"OW!" he (in a very 'manly' way) screeched "Who the hell throws welcome mats in people's faces?"

"Stop that you two!" Elizaveta ordered, desperately trying to hold back a laugh "He's your new roommate, not a thief."

Alfred looked up to see two men, hands full of hockey equipments and books staring at him. The first one had messy blond hair and emerald green eyes, over which there were two caterpillars – ahem, bushy eyebrows. He wore a suit that for some reason or another really went well with his frown.  
The second one was the exact copy of Alfred, with longer hair and a stray curl. He also wore the same kind of clothing; a red sweater and jeans. The resemblance was too obvious.

"Hey! I never noticed how much you two looked alike!" Elizaveta chirped "Probably because Matthew's presence is too weak compared to yours."

"Dude!" Alfred exclaimed "It would be so cool if we were brothers! I was adopted so I don't really know who my biological parents were…" He jumped off the sofa and held out his hand "Alfred F. Jones, nice to meet you!"

Alfred's look-alike smiled politely, shaking the hand "Unfortunately, my parents are my biological ones and I have no brother." He laughed a little "And anyway, the probability of such a coincidence is nonexistent. Though I'm sure it'll be helpful in the future to have a clone of myself… I'm Matthew Williams by the way."

"I have a feeling my life is about to become much more confusing than it already is…" sighed the other roommate, his English accent as thick as it could get "In any case, I hope we'll get along well, lad. I'm Arthur Kirkland. Luckily for you, our last roommate isn't here; that frog is a notorious pervert. And also, sorry for the mat. I mistook you for that bloody frenchy."

A phone suddenly rang, interrupting the introductions. Elizaveta took hers out of her pocket. "Wow… That's really creepy." She said, looking at her screen "I thought those 'speaking of the devil' moments only happened in novels. Anyway…" she pressed on the receive call button "Hey Francis, what's up? […] Nah, I'm helping out your new roommate. That jackass Gilbert ditched all his work on me again, slap him for me. […] Roderich? He probably got lost. The cemetery is pretty big after all. […] Kay, bye!" The woman sighed before turning to the others, ending the call with her thumb "Looks like I have to go, the cemetery is about to close and I can't miss paying my respects to grandpa Beilshmidt. Could you guys show him around?"

"Sure." Arthur shrugged.

"I can't really, sorry." Matthew apologized "I have to go see the owner of the ice rink nearby to make a deal for the school hockey team."

"Meh, it's fine." Alfred smiled "I doubt I'll need two people to tell me not to get lost."

* * *

"So, recap, There are two buildings: the school and the dorms." Alfred started as soon as he came back with Arthur to their apartment "For the dorms, first floor is the cafeteria, the lounge and the library for students, second floor is for the boys, third is for the girls and fourth is for the teachers. We get to have awesome apartment-like rooms while the students have simple rooms and shared bathrooms."

"That's right." Arthur nodded.

"As for the school, the ground floor has a gymnasium, a school supply shop, an exposition room and a stage. First floor is for the lockers, classes and the day-care, second are all the after school clubs, third has the school restaurant, fourth the headmaster's study and all the administration offices and crap, fifth has more random classes and sixth has all the labs and computer rooms." Alfred finished.

"Good, now you won't get lost." Congratulated Arthur. "What are you going to be teaching here? I'll try to find your assigned classroom."

"Don't worry about that," the blond dismissed "I'm hired to take care of all the little kids teachers don't have the time to take care of, I guess I'll be staying in the day-care."

A look of pity overtook the Englishman's face. He patted his new roommates shoulder "Good luck. These little runts are hard to keep an eye on."

Alfred was confused "The day-care is only for kids younger than ten! How many teachers have a kid or a sibling of that age? There can't be that many."

"Most teachers here are pretty young… the oldest must be thirty five." Arthur informed "Their kids are rarely older than four."

Alfred groaned, burying his head in the first pillow he could reach "What is wrong with this school? Where are all the old naggy teachers?"

Arthur let a small sad smile replace his usual frown "You accepted the job without knowing what kind of school this was? The Dublin Beilshmidt high school was created by the current headmaster's grandfather with only one goal; to help the outcasts of society live a normal life. Some people lose trust in others, others lose their families and friends and some are just plainly rejected because they are different… This school helps everyone get up; it accepts even the most corrupted souls with ease. Most move out once they found their place in society. To make it brief, all the people you'll encounter are overgrown kids who don't what to do with their lives. You included."

"In this case, I guess this is the perfect job for a hero like me!" Alfred laughed. "Anyway, what do you teach?"

"Literature." Arthur answered.

"Figures." Alfred sighed "I guess Mathew is a PE teacher, since he seems to be taking care of hockey, and Francis a French teacher, right?"

"Actually, no." Arthur corrected "Matthew teaches French, hockey is the after school club he coaches. Francis teaches… sexual education."

"Life here is bound to be interesting." Alfred noted.

* * *

On the other hand, Matthew was having a less good time. It was obvious Alfred thought nothing of their similarities, but Alfred had always been kept in the dark after all. He didn't know anything, nor what kind of parents he had nor what he did to Matthew.

Guilt and anger fought within the Canadian, how could he blame someone who wasn't even aware of the situation back home? He technically wasn't even related to the family!  
But could Matthew simply forgive him an act like nothing bad ever happened? He was a kind soul by nature but there was limit to even the most forgiving minds, and that limit happened to be a whole neglected childhood.

Matthew took a deep breath, thinking he could focus on cooking as soon as he opened the door. Hopefully, it would take Alfred off his mind.  
_Click_.

"Hey Mattie! Welcome home!" Alfred immediately greeted, jumping from the sofa to help him carry the groceries he had bought on his way back.

"No!" Matthew yanked his arm from Alfred's hand, by a simple reflex of repulsion. He quickly realized his rash mistake, guilt taking over from Alfred's hurt expression, and took it to himself to calm down "I – I just wanted to surprise you with tonight's welcome dinner. It won't do if you already see the ingredients, right? Hahaha…"  
_Yeah, that laugh was way too unnatural_. He mentally concluded.

"Oh really?" Alfred grinned "Thanks bro!"

Matthew froze_. Did he just say…? Nonsense_. It was just a friendly nickname.

"… Yeah… Really," Matthew replied with as much enthusiasm as he could muster "You deserve one. Just go back to watching…" he craned his neck to see past Alfred and into the TV screen "… Adventure Time… And relax."

As soon as the path was finally free of Americans, Matthew headed to the kitchen.

He slowly took out the ingredients for the salty crepes he was preparing, glad for every second he could spend alone. However, this isolation quickly turned sour as he could hear his three roommates conversing in the living room. From their laughs and Arthur's tsundere shouts, it was obvious they were having fun… or at least more fun than they ever had with Matthew.  
Jealousy was taking over him again.

It was exactly like the days when he was younger, when his father cherished his work more than his family and his mother fell in a frantic search for Alfred.

Matthew was a good kid; he was kind, generous and cheerful, everything his parents needed to keep standing during those moments of deep crisis. But when money finally made their way into their hand, what need did they have of a kid who could be taken care by teachers and a nanny? Matthew was too boring, too polite and not _interesting_ enough.

And so began Matthew's transparent existence. Who cared about the kid who always did things right and never got into trouble? His shyness was too handicapping in a conversation to enjoy talking to him anyways.

Everything, everything was _his_ fault. If _he_ hadn't been born …

"Merde!" Matthew swore as he cut his finger instead of a tomato, accidentally pushing his glass of water over the counter.

Crash!

".. and then BOOM! We couldn't see anyth -" Alfred explained to Arthur, Francis or both, covering the sound of the glass shattering.

So naturally, no one heard Matthew's blunder. As usual. He could have gotten shot and they would only discover the corps when the smell of rotting flesh got to their nose, either that or when their stomachs complained.  
He cleaned everything up, indifferent towards the cuts the many shards painted on his fingers. He would bandage them afterwards, by himself, like always.

"Dinner's ready!" he called a few hours later, placing a full plate on the table's four sides.

But once again, the television seemed more present them him.

"_Dinner!_" he repeated, straining his vocal cords.

Alfred turned around, his eyes widening in joy.  
"Crepes? With tomato and cheese? I love these!" he chirped, reaching the table in a single stride. He took an enormous bite as soon as everyone was sitting and gulfed the whole thing down right after "Oh my God! You're a king at this Mattie!" he complimented, eyeing at a second serving with anime-like sparkles in his eyes.

"Glad you like it." Matthew smiled, saying the only words he would pronounce for the whole dinner.

Just as he guessed, eating was mostly a conversation between his roommates, himself excluded. Alfred's life was just so much more interesting than his, what could he possibly say to top all his adrenalin filled adventures? Talk about the time he rode a moose? Ridiculous.  
No, what he could do was smile and nod and laugh to be a good audience. It was easy for him, especially with all the practice he'd had with his parents.

Francis and Arthur too were starting to forget him. Not that it was a brand new phenomenon in the brit's mind to omit Matthew from its memory. What really hurt was for Francis not to notice how bitter his eyes were, the Frenchman was practically born with a six sense to read people's heart and it was far from his habit to leave the hurt ones alone and licking their own wounds. Was Matthew just _that_ invisible? Had he died and become a ghost without even noticing it?  
Or had Alfred even stolen his friendship with his roommates?

Matthew stood up, picking up his empty plate.  
"I'm really tired from preparing my classes. I think I'll head to bed now." He apologized.

"It's only nine!" Alfred whined "Stay with us a bit longer!"

"The school year starts tomorrow, Alfred." Matthew sighed "Wouldn't want my Canadian accent to slip in cause of sleep deprivation, eh?"

"Mon dieu," Francis smiled "Go to bed now. If those kids start mispronouncing my beautiful language I will butcher you and feed you to my birds."

Matthew let out a small laugh and shut himself in his room.

He quickly changed and collapsed on his bed. He hadn't lied, he really was tired. Negotiating for the hockey field and finding texts and books to study for every single grade was taxing on his usually stress-free mind… and with Alfred's arrival…

With the last bit of strength he had, Matthew set his alarm.

Then, he closed his eyes.

It had been long day.

* * *

**Feedback? Comments? Anything?**


	3. How to be a Hero II

**Second chapter! Hope you like it :)**  
**By the way, I won the lottery and bought Hetalia so I totally own it.**  
**Haha... As if I have enough money to participate in the lottery.**

* * *

The first day of school was a big mess. On one side were the stressed out teachers who had to track the missing students, run between classes, deal with the paperwork and adjusting their future lessons to the classes' personalities and levels. On the other were the students, already getting lost, looking for their friends and enrolling for clubs.  
And all Alfred could do was sit and watch all this shuffling around from his window walled room where the little 'runts', as Arthur called them, were taking a nap.

It did leave him time to think, especially about Matthew's weird behaviour.

The Canadian had left Alfred with reasons to believe he was avoided. It wasn't just the simple step back as soon as Alfred took a step forward, but also the haste in ending their conversations, the lack of eye contact, the occasional flinch when Alfred talked, the stiffness in his movements when he was around him…  
What? Wouldn't you spend your time staring if a person looked exactly like yourself?

Okay, so maybe it wasn't just about the similarities.  
Alfred wasn't the brightest light bulb of the pack, but he wasn't close to being the dimmest either: Matthew knew him, by name if not by face. From that, it was obvious they were related, probably brothers or cousins. However, would you avoid your family like the plague?  
There definitely was something behind the discomfort between the two and that was the only reason Alfred hadn't asked Matthew yet. Who knew what the Canadian had gone through if he himself had gone through so much? It was best not to be as blunt as usual.

"'Fweeeed!" Marcello, the youngest of his charges called. "Hungwy!"

Marcello Vargas probably the most attention seeking kid of the day-care but his adorableness always made him forgiven. The two year old boy left the comfort of his bed and waddled towards Alfred, before collapsing on his laps. He then plucked his glasses from his face and tried to bite them.

"Whoah! No, you can't eat that!" Alfred laughed gently wrestling for his eyesight "And you'll have to wait ten o'clock for snack time, that's the rule. On the other hand, if you want to play the game _(A/N: Haha, you all lost The Game)_ of your choice, I'm all yours little guy!"

Marcello's beady eyes lit up "Pasta! I want make pasta!" he chirped.

"Yeah… That's not really a game… Sorry…" Alfred apologized "How about we play with this Captain America figurine?" he handed his cherished toy to the little boy, smiling as he did as well.

"Cap'ain 'Merica?" the boy asked, his stray curl of hair bouncing in excitement "He is who?"

Alfred grinned. He just loved talking about his favourite hero "Captain America is a hero! It means he saves people in case of danger, even if he has to put his life on the line. And he has a heart as big as the country he fights for and the strength of a lion, not to mention the best shield ever!"

Marcello looked up in awe "Can he save brother Lovino then?"

Alfred gave him a sad smile. He wasn't too sure who Lovino was yet, but if he was anywhere near this school, Lovino's problem probably was one of the heart.  
"Unfortunately, he can't be everywhere at once…" Alfred apologized "But instead, _you_ can help him! Just smile and be there for him, I'm sure you'll give him the strength to stand up!"

"And then I'll be hero?" Marcello asked with hope shining on his face.

"Yup!" Alfred affirmed "You'll be your brother's hero!"

"Alfred! Alfred!" Amanda called, running up to him "Who is _your _hero?"

Before he had even began to notice it, all the kids had grown awake and were flocking around him, eager to hear more about heroes. The tomboyish girl awaited her answer impatiently. Alfred had only been around them for a few hours, but he had already grasped their blossoming personalities; Amanda was stubborn and probably the leader wannabe of the group.

"Captain America of course!" Alfred grinned.

"Does that mean he rescued you? Did you see him?" Peter asked excited.

"He saved me in a very different way," Alfred answered "Just by being awesome and cool, he inspired me to do the same!"

"I don't get it." Michael frowned.

"What he means is that Captain America never actually shielded him from any danger but he gave him the mental strength needed for him not to commit suicide." Emil explained, picking up a random book off the bookshelf.

"What's suicide?" Lili asked, playing with her hair ribbon.

Alfred sighed "What are you Emil, seven?"

"Six."

"You're way too smart for your own age." Alfred deadpanned before turning to the little girl "Suicide is when you feel very sad and you don't want to get up anymore… It's pretty much like giving up on everything."

"I don't get it." Michael frowned.

"Ugh. You will when you grow up." Alfred replied "Come to think about it, who are _your_ heroes?"

Amanda's hand shot in the air "Mine is my older brother, Arthur!" she exclaimed "He got me, Kaelin, Allistor and Jett away from our mean daddy and mommy!"

"Arthur has siblings?" Alfred asked, surprised "He never told me."

"Jett says it's because he's a 'spineless coward'." Amanda pouted "But we love him very, very much."

"Well _my_ superhero is my mommy, Tino." Peter claimed, a smug look on his face "He adopted me when I had no family, and then I had one!"

"Your mommy can't be a boy!" Carlos refuted "A mommy is a girl."

"No," Emil corrected "Everything depends on the definition of a mother you are using. If it's the biological one then yes, it has to be a woman. On the other hand, if you're talking about a mother figure then it can be anyone who has given love, affection and time to a child."

"I don't get it." Michael frowned. That Emil kid really had a way to make Alfred feel stupid.

"Nevermind, who is your hero, Michael?" Alfred asked.

"Lars." Michael replied "Because he saved Emma."

"I have no idea who that is but he sounds awesome." Alfred smiled "What about you Lili?"

The little girl blushed "It's also my brother, Vash. He is very nice… D – Do you have a brother, Alfred?"

Alfred froze. What was he supposed to answer? Was Matthew his brother? What about his adoptive parents' daughter, did she count as a sibling? The kids wouldn't really care either ways, but perhaps the answer meant a lot to Alfred. He _wanted_ a real sibling, someone he could feel useful to, or at least related to, someone who wouldn't make him feel like a stranger. He needed a home.

"Oh will you look at the time!" Alfred said "It's ten, snack time!"

The kids rushed to the snack cupboard and carefully picked their dose of sugar; they would only get one and the choice was hard.

* * *

Matthew sat in the teacher's lounge, correcting an extra summer assignment he had given, when Sadiq, the PE teacher came to him.

"Hey, did ya see that new caretaker, Matthew?" he asked "He looks just like you. Are you related?"

"No." Matthew answered straightforwardly "He's my roommate though."

Something about the PE teacher coming to talk to him ticked Matthew. He rarely talked to others, mostly because they never noticed him. And now, because Alfred was here, he was suddenly interesting?  
He was being much too negative about the American's sudden arrival in his life.

Though who could really blame him for his bad mood? The beginning of the year always was a hectic time for teachers, the school was having financial troubles and his worst nightmare had come to town. The upcoming Canada-Russia hockey game could only lift his spirit so much when things like that kept happening.

And poor Alfred had to endure his jealousy. To say he wasn't feeling bad for that was a lie; no matter how much he talked to the guy he simply couldn't find any reasons to hate him further. But he did, he despised Alfred. He despised having a perfect 'brother'.

The Canadian decided to take a break in his work; it was lunch time anyway.  
He made his way to the cafeteria where students were chatting in excitement and laughter, greeting a few of his with a polite 'Bonjour'. He bought a simple sandwich and a light salad before finding a table on which sat no one. He wasn't exactly in a talkative mood at the moment. Not that it changed much, most wouldn't talk to him even he was sitting at the same table.  
It was weird how food tasted so dull when his mindset just wasn't one for enjoying life.

What he should have done from then on was eat quickly and leave just as fast.

But he didn't.

He took his time, dreading returning to the teacher's lounge and facing the monstrosity a student of his had written. Seriously, how was it even possible to make so many mistakes in a single essay? Half of the sentences didn't even make sense! And so were the frustrations of so many teachers… Sometimes he wondered if his words ever made it through the classroom; it was one thing for his colleagues to ignore him but it was another for his students to.

So with all this time lost, Alfred had time to creep up on him.

"Hey Mattie!" he greeted, sitting in front of him.

Matthew stared blankly at the other before mechanically turning around to see who he was talking to.

"Dude, there aren't two thousand Matthews here." Alfred laughed.

Matthew turned back, "Aren't you supposed to be supervising the kids?" he asked.

"The secretary, that Chinese girl, uhm… April? June?" Alfred started, raking his brain for the right name "May! May took over so I could have a lunch break without having my food stolen by them. I don't really know anyone yet and you were alone so I decided to join you!" the American placed a tray full of various sandwiches and snacks on the table, nearly spilling his extra large bottle of coke.

"Uhm… Okay…" Was all Matthew could say in response. Sitting right in front of Alfred was just about the most awkward thing that had happened to him that day, and that included the boner a student got for him during class. What was he supposed to say? He didn't even want to have a conversation with his doppelganger! Hopefully the other didn't mind the silence.

"So, heard you like hockey?" … Hope eradicated. "There's a match with Canada against Russia tomorrow night, want to watch it together?" Alfred continued "I don't know for you but if Russia's the enemy, I'm rooting for Canada all the way!"

Matthew decided to play along "Well I'm Canadian so I don't really have a choice, do I? Hockey is like a national obsession." He said. It was lucky hockey was the topic; it was one of the few he could go on forever about, no matter how much he loathed talking to the other.

"Do you hate me?" Alfred asked.

Matthew choked on his drink.

Alfred's eyes suddenly widened as he covered his mouth "Oh God, sorry. Bad habit… uhm… Don't mind my question!" the American smashed his head repetitively against the table "Damnit! Why do I have to be so blunt?"

Matthew winced. Sure he wished Alfred to be hurt but… looking at him bang his head on the table was like seeing himself do the same thing.  
"Please stop that." He said, his throat a bit sore from coughing his apple juice out. Matthew sighed. "You know what? I have to go correct a few shot essays, so I can't really stay here."

The Canadian got up but was held back just as he was about to leave.

"Wait." Alfred called "I know I told you not to mind it but… Please think of an answer to my question." The man gulped "I just want to know why you're avoiding me like that… Please."

Matthew stared at Alfred as the other mad the most natural and pitiful puppy face he had ever seen.  
"Right." He nodded before leaving as quickly as people tended to forget him.

* * *

It was official. Alfred was the biggest, dumbest idiot in the whole damn world. He had promised himself not to corner Matthew with any sort of uncomfortable questions. And what did he do? Just that. What an idiot. The little hope he had in befriending his roommate was now gone and replaced with a whole lot of awkwardness. Maybe his adoptive parents had been right all along, it was best for him to just 'Shut up and stand there looking pretty, or at least try to'.

"Alfred F. Jones?" someone called, popping their head into his little aquarium like room. The man was small with light blond hair, an incredibly cute roundish face and eyes that seemed to light up with kindness.

"Yeah?" Alfred answered, standing up to greet the other.

The man smiled "I'm Tino Väinämöinen, the deputy headmaster. Please just call me Tino, my last name tends to get butchered when you don't come from northern Europe."

"Mom!" Peter exclaimed, running towards the man.

"Peter, please don't mind me. I have to talk business with Alfred. Okay?" Tino replied, stroking his son's hair.

Alfred grabbed Peter and placed him back on the floor next to the table where all the books lied opened.  
"You can't escape your work Peter." Alfred smirked "You haven't done half a page of the exercise book yet!"

"But it's so unfair!"Peter complained "Why do only Lili, Chris, Emil and I have to work? The others get to play all day long!"

Alfred sighed "It's because you're old enough to go to primary school."

"Fine." Peter surrendered, going back to sit next to his brother Chris.

"Sorry about him," Tino apologized "He tends to act a bit spoiled."

"It's fine, that's what I'm being paid for!"Alfred grinned.

"Right, well I need to discuss something with you." Tino started "The school is having financial troubles as you may know so we would like you, only if you can of course – God forbid we force you to do anything – to organize an activity to raise funds with the kids. It can be anything, from a play to baking cakes. If you need ideas, ask other teachers: most of them already have something going on."

"Anything? Really?" Alfred smiled, his eyes sparkling like a Twilight vampire.

"Yeah…" Tino answered, feeling the danger in Alfred's intentions "As long as it's not swindling people or stealing or anything like that. I mean, take Francis for example, he writes books and donates the royalties to the school or Feliciano who organizes art expositions every year!"

"Oh… Okay."Alfred nodded "What does Matthew do?" he suddenly found himself asking.

"Mathew?" Tino looked surprised "Oh, Matthew! Right, uhm… Mathew… Mathew helps Emma, the cafeteria's cook for free whenever he has free time. It helps a lot actually, cooks are so expensive to hire." Tino sighed "Well, I have to go. See you around!"

"See ya!" Alfred said back before going back to supervising the kids.

But something was troubling him. Why did he ask about Matthew? Why not Arthur or Elizaveta? They were closer to friends than the Canadian was. It made no sense. Perhaps he was just curious?

At least one thing was clear in his mind now: Mathew was a nice guy. Who else would agree to do extra work without extra money? However, that only made the fact Mathew hated him worse. Nice people didn't go around hating others without an excellent reason to do so, Alfred was sure of that.

If only Alfred knew to be more aware of his actions and words. Then maybe, _maybe_ he would know what he had done. It was so much easier to apologize when you knew what you were apologizing for. Unfortunately, Alfred had never been one to shut up and think twice before talking. The simple idea of being silent made him shiver. He wasn't a good well-behaved kid, he never had been. But if he didn't do whatever he could to attract attention, wouldn't people finally manage to forget him? Anyone he had been around had at least once desperately tried to ignore him, to erase his existence. He didn't want that. He existed, he was there and he was going to make sure no one could tell him otherwise.

On the other hand, Alfred knew very well all he achieved was pissing off the others. Sure, his friendliness got him on people's good side at first, but everyone got tired of that eventually.

"Fweeeed!" Marcello called "It's Cap'ain 'Merica!" the little boy and Michael ran up to Alfred, thrusting the figurine in his chest "He will save you, pwease do not cwy!"

Huh? When had he started crying?

Alfred looked down at the kid's gift, wiping the tears off his cheeks. He stared at the hero's cocky smile and at his confident posture. How could he have forgotten? Alfred was a hero too! He could save himself. He could fight for what he believed. He could face his problems easily.  
How long was he going to torment himself? He had to stand up. Mathew wasn't going to start liking him if he just avoided the guy, he had to show him who he really was and turn him into his friend!

Alfred smiled at his new determination. It didn't matter how much effort and time it would take but he knew he would fight the evil wall between him and his clone and win. He had too: it was a hero's job.

Alfred handed the figurine back to the little boy "Thanks Marcello, but I don't need it anymore. Keep it for now."

"Bu – But then you have no hewo!" Marcello cried.

"_You_ are my hero." Alfred grinned "You reminded me that I could be my own hero."

"I don't get it." Michael frowned.


End file.
